It’s 6:30 p.m. Dinnertime is 7, but tabby Bert struts around the room, glaring with green saucers, full of anger that his dish is empty. Gypsy-Mae slinks figures of eight around my ankles, rubbing her head against my shins. She’s black and white, like the cow she is, shedding her long hair, leaving me with leg warmers. Buster scoffs at her flirting. A ginger ball of fire bursts through the door with a banshee scream, threatening to call the RSPCA on me for starving them. Out in the rainy street, a stray mews. It’s 6:35 p.m. Close enough.
Billie-Leigh Burns is a writer from Liverpool. Her work has been featured by 50-Word Stories, 101 Words, Funny Pearls, and The Mersey Review. Bluesky: @blbwriter.bsky.social Instagram and X: @blbwriter.